


The Voice is Me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Thoughts are in these things), Dean Winchester - Freeform, Depressed Sam Winchester, Gen, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Self-Destruction, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Sam Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, castiel - Freeform, possible ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 18:26:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16686631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam is depressed, and finally has enough. Nothing he does seems to help, and the voice in his head keeps telling him things he doesn't want to hear. When Dean comes back to the room and finds Sam passed out in a pile of broken  bottles it sets off a chain reaction of events that both of them never expected.(Exert below.)“I’m sorry, Dean.” I whisper and reach up with my bloody hands and touch his arm. My eyes feel heavy, so I close them, giving in to the dizzying blackness. Giving into the void that has been threatening to consume me for so long. Giving in to everything that I have tried so hard to keep back, to keep away. Giving in and giving up. “I’m sorry.” A last whisper leaves me as the world fades from me. I can hear Dean calling out for Sammy, I can hear the pain in his voice, but there is nothing I can do. He wasn’t supposed to find me until I was long dead.Trigger Warnings in authors note(at the top).I stink at summeries.Possible OOC(Thoughts are in these things.)





	The Voice is Me

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: SUICIDE, SELF-HATRED AND OTHER SELF DEPRICIATING THOUGHTS. THERE MAY BE A FEW OTHERS THAT AREN'T COMING TO MIND RIGHT NOW.
> 
> Consider yourself warned.
> 
> Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do the characters belong to me.
> 
> Timeline may be off. Again, Possible OOC.

“Good morning, Sam.” Castiel greets warmly as I come in to the motel.  
“Hey, Cas.” I greet back. I went for a jog and brought back some breakfast. “Where is, Dean?” My eyes scan the room and I don’t see him. I set the food down on Dean’s bed next to Cas and grab my duffle bag form my bed. I put the rest of my bottle of water in the bag and pick up the bag.  
“He said that he needed to find something.” Cas answers simply.  
“Okay.” I head to the bathroom, taking my bag with me, to take a quick shower. Dean, and I have to go interview a newly married couple about the disappearance of both sets of parents. I don’t think that there is a job here, but Dean seems to think that this is the biggest thing we have ever faced before.  
I strip down and jump into the shower, cleaning myself as quickly as possible. If I don’t hurry, about my luck, Dean will take off on his own. I sigh as I wash my hair, thinking about how life used to be, before my every waking thought was haunted by my mistakes and who I once was.  
“Hurry up, Sammy.” Dean bangs on the door.  
“Alright!” I snap. For once I wish that I could turn things around. Sure, I love Dean. Meeting Castiel was awesome. The hunts, saving people, it’s all great. However, sometimes I wonder what we are even still fighting for. The battle goes on, and on. It’s like there will never be an end, other than the bloody one that belongs to a hunter by default it seems. I rinse myself off one more time, turn the water off, and dry off as quickly as possible.  
“Move it, Sammy!” Dean bangs on the door again.  
“Just a minute.” Grumbling I throw my clothes on, and glance at myself I the mirror. Hoping that I look at least presentable.  
“Leaving.” Dean shouts, I swing the door open in a huff, leaving my bag in the bathroom. “Well, there you are. I thought that you had left us.”  
“Ha-Ha. Very funny, you get funnier every day.” I leave the bathroom, past Dean.  
“Easy! Geez, you woke up grumpy didn’t you.”  
“Shut it, Dean.” I glare warningly. I don’t have time for this bull crap today. We need to get this done, so we can move on to the next hunt, and the next, and the next… It’s a never-ending process.  
“Okay.” He throws his hands up in surrender and leaves the motel room to start the Impala.  
“Sam, are you alright?” Castiel cocks his head as I walk past him.  
“Yeah, I’m fine. Got to go. See you, Cas.” I mumble before leaving, closing the door behind me.  
“Cas not coming with us?” Dean glances at me when I get in.  
“I don’t know, Dean. Did anyone ask him?”  
“No, but-“ Dean starts.  
“Then he isn’t.” I look out my window.  
“What the hell is wrong with you, Sam? You have been bitching all day.” Dean shuts the engine off.  
“Nothing. Drive. We need to get this interview over with.”  
“Sam?” Dean questions hesitantly.  
“Drive. Dean.” I roll my eyes. Dean huffs, restarts the engine, and pulls out from the motel parking lot.  
“What’s the story on these people?” Dean asks while the impala speeds down the road.  
“Something about Carrie Baker, she married some douche bag named Allen Duke. Now their parents are missing.”  
“Okay, what is their story?”  
“Parents? They never met until the wedding. Disappeared the night after.”  
“Carrie and Allen?” Dean quizzes as we approach our stop.  
“They met on a dating site, didn’t even know they worked in the same building. Carrie works as a librarian in the high school, and Allen is a teacher in the high school.”  
“How do you know this much, Sam?” Dean pulls into a parking place and kills the engine.  
“I went for a jog, picked up a paper, talked to people. The usual.”  
“Okay.” Dean gets out and starts walking towards the public high school.  
“Right.” I mumble, and quickly join him.

“So, I was right. There is no case.” I smirk triumphantly, sitting on my bed while we are in our motel room.  
“Don’t rub it in my face.” Dean pouts, slamming the top down on my laptop. The parents got together and went to some resort thing. The newly weds really need to check their voice mail.  
“But I was right.”  
“Shut up.” Dean gets up from his bed and picks up the newspaper.  
“What are you doing, Dean? There is nothing here.”  
“There has to be.” He protests in an agitated tone.  
(What the hell is he thinking? There is nothing.)  
“It’s time to move on, Dean. There is nothing here for you to gank.” A close my eyes and breath.  
“Fine.” He throws the paper down, storms out, moments later I hear the impala start up and pull out of the motel parking lot.  
“Yeah, I didn’t need anything… Thanks for asking.” I grumble.  
(Well, at least I have some time alone… if only I could enjoy it… I don’t really need to be alone right now.)  
I sigh and get up to turn on the TV. Nothing seems to be on to watch, and nothing seems to be able to distract me, draw my attention, nothing.  
(Should I call around and see if anyone has anything for us? No, you have called everyone nonstop all week. They are going to start worrying about you. There is nothing to worry about, of course. I just need some time to snap back… Just a little time.)  
“Sam, where is, Dean?” I hear wings flap, and a moment later Castiel’s voice asks.  
“I don’t know. He went out.”  
“Where?”  
“What part of ‘I don’t know’ can’t you understand?” I snap harshly. I’m not angry at Castiel, I just need some time to get my head together. “Sorry, Cas. Dean went out somewhere, I don’t know where.” I start over more gently this time.  
“Are you alright, Sam?” Castiel looks at me curiously.  
“Fine. I’m fine, Cas.” I reassure him.  
“Very well. I am going to go look for Dean.” A moment later I’m alone again.  
“Yeah, I’m fine here… I don’t want to help you look for, Dean.” I clear my throat.  
(What does Dean think I do when he leaves me alone? What does he do when I leave him alone?)  
I grab my laptop from Dean’s bed, open it, to start looking for anything that might be a hunt. I mentally prepare myself for what I might see on the screen yet am still slightly surprised to see porn. I should be used to it by now. Every time Dean uses my computer there are several tabs open with porn streaming on them. It’s not that hard to close them out and spare your brother from seeing page, after page, of porn. I grumble and curse under my breath, but I close them out, so I can do something useful with my time. As I search for a hunt, my mind returning to my days in college.  
(I miss, Jess.)  
(What would life have been like if I never went back to hunting? Dean wouldn’t have gone to hell because of me… I wouldn’t have gone to hell… Everything would be different… Everything.)  
What scares me is, I don’t know whether it would be a good different, or a bad different. What scares me even more is how much I want to end this miserable life. There is nothing to go back to, though.  
I rise to my feet and try walking around to relieve some of the tension coursing through my veins. It’s not a physical tension, it’s more mental. I pause next to the small fridge in the corner.  
(Did Dean leave any beer in there? Anything with alcohol content?)  
I go over and open the fridge, to my delight, and dismay, there is a few beers in it.  
(It wouldn’t hurt to drink one, would it?)  
I grab one up, close the fridge, open the beer, and quickly drink it.  
(That wasn’t so bad. What would another one hurt?)  
I get up and grab another from the fridge. Guzzling that one down also.  
(This is good, but is there anything stronger? I need to dull this empty feeling inside of me.)  
I start searching the room, then I look in Dean’s bag. Lo and behold, there is a bottle of whiskey. Sending a silent prayer of thanks, I grab the bottle and take it to my bed.  
(I really shouldn’t drink Dean’s whiskey, but… I need to do something. I’m not the drink your problems away type… but I’m willing to try anything at this point.)  
I open the bottle, the smell of whiskey filling my nose.  
“Here’s to life.” I sarcastically toast before taking a swig of it. Followed by another drink. Before long, I’ve drank over half of the bottle, and am feeling drunk.  
(Jess shouldn’t have died. I should have saved her… I could have saved her… I never should have gone with Dean… I never would have left her behind. Dean wouldn’t have ended up in hell, I wouldn’t have ended up in hell. Castiel would still be an angel. Not a fallen one. We wouldn’t have started the apocalypse. Shit, all of this is my fault.)  
I take another drink of whiskey.  
(It wouldn’t surprise me if Dean got tired of me tagging along everywhere. He did ask me to come back, but not indefinitely. Should I leave? Would anyone miss me?)  
My thoughts wonder darker, and darker the closer I get to the bottom of the bottle. ‘Just one more drink.’ I would think about ¾ of the way gone, then it would be, ‘How about one more?’ Before much longer the bottle is empty, and I’m sick of living this crappy life.  
(I know that this is going to end in blood, one way or another. Why not end it now?)  
I jump up when I realize what I just thought.  
(What the hell? Why am I thinking this? I have to be okay, If I failed… I would lose everything. Dean would hate me, Cas would never look at me the same. Bobby… He might just disown me... What would Dad think? God, he would probably cheer me on.)  
I stumble over to the fridge and grab another beer against my better judgment.  
(I know that drinking is not the answer, but it sure as hell helps me think of the damn answer.)  
Starting back to my bed, I start drinking the beer, slower than the others because I’m feeling really, really, drunk, and dizzy. I lie down on the bed.  
(So, if I did want to kill myself… how would I do it? Gun? Knife? Rope?)  
I shake my head against the dark ideas running through my brain.  
(Let a monster kill you? No, Dean would blame himself.)  
I finish the bottle and throw it across the room with a huff. Shattering the bottle into thousands of pieces.  
(If I killed myself, Dean would just drag my ass back. If not him, then Cas or Bobby.)  
I roll over onto my stomach, and groan at the feeling growing inside me.  
(Why would they drag me back? I’m not even worth anything… I keep screwing up… Wasting people’s time… It would be easy to end it… No one is here.)  
I turn back over onto by back, panting, and sweating.  
(Dean may not even be back all night… Cas will search until he finds him and stay with him the rest of the night.)  
I sit up on and look around the room.  
(I can’t do it, I can’t kill myself. I’m fine… I’m fine… They need me to be fine… They need me to be… They need me to… They need me… They need me… They need me… They don’t need me…)  
I growl in frustration and fall backwards into bed again.  
(I can’t off myself, I can’t… I can’t keep living like this either… I can keep living like this and I will.)  
I close my eyes tightly, to keep any tears from falling.  
(I don’t deserve to cry, all I do is bitch, complain… I need to get a hold of myself.)  
Taking deep breaths, I get up out of bed, swaying dangerously on my feet, and try to clean up the mess that I made. I’m picking up glass shards when everything starts to get fuzzy, and I get really dizzy. Then, everything goes dark.  
“What is going on with, Sam?” I hear the front door unlock, I groan at the sound, but can’t seem to get up.  
“I am not sure.” A voice that sounds like Castiel speaks from outside the door.  
“Well, he needs to get his act together. He nearly scared, the couple we interviewed earlier, to death.” That sounds like Dean.  
“Has, Sam, ever gotten like this before?” I hear the door creak open.  
“No, I don’t know what is going- SON OF A BITCH!” Dean breaks off into a frantic yell, and rushes over to my side. “Sammy, Sammy?” He shakes me gently.  
“G’ aw’y.” Drunkenly, I slur.  
“Shit. Cas, help me.” Dean drags me over to my bed and, with help from Castiel, puts me on it.  
“What happened, Sam?” Dean stares at me with concern.  
“f’k you.” I growl, shielding my eyes from the light.  
“What the hell? Sam, why are there beer bottles laying everywhere?” Dean tries in vain to interrogate me.  
“Dean, Sam, feel into some glass.” Castiel whispers from my side. Dean curses under his breath but leaves to go get the first aid kit. Everything goes dark again.

I wake up with a splitting head ache, and the light is burning my eyes.  
(What the hell happened last night? Did Dean take us to a bar?)  
I groan and try to sit up, finding that my head spins with the movement so I stay down.  
“Hey, how you feelin’, Sammy?” I hear someone question from somewhere close by.  
“Fine.” I open my eyes, only to be once again assaulted by the light.  
“Yeah.” The voice, which turns out to be Dean, mutters.  
“What happened?” I stretch, only then noticing that my hands have bandages on them. “Dean?”  
“You… got yourself hurt last night.” Dean smiles sadly. “You should see the other guy.”  
“Dean, what happened?” I squint my eyes and try to stand up.  
“Hey, you need to rest, you need to rest.” Dean pushes me back down.  
“Don’t tell me what to do!” I hiss a little to loudly, making my head throb even more.  
“Damn it, Sammy! You drank last night until you passed out.” Dean yells at me.  
“So? What the hell does it matter?” I shout back, much to my own heads dismay, I hold my head in my hands.  
“What does it-.“ Dean looks shocked. “What does it matter? You could have killed yourself with as much alcohol as you drank!”  
“Oh, I didn’t know that.” I sass sarcastically. “Mind your own damn business.”  
“Excuse me? I’m sorry if I’m worried for my brother that I left here alone and came back to find him passed out drunk in a pile of broken beer bottles!” Deans gets angrier.  
“Oh, and I haven’t found you that way before?” I raise my eye brows.  
“Damn it, Sammy. You aren’t the one that drinks like that. You just do your geek thing. I’m so damn sorry that you think I care.”  
“Geek thing? Is that all I am to anyone? A geek, used for research? Am I nothing more than that?” I force myself to sit up and stare Dean directly in the eye.  
“Don’t you ever, ever, do that again.” Dean gets up and storms out of the room angrily, slamming the door behind him.  
“Yeah. Sure.” I scoff, and plop back down into the bed.  
(I shouldn’t have yelled at him. He started it. No, I shouldn’t have yelled at him.)  
I growl at myself and roll over onto my stomach.  
(I need to get up, there is no way I can fall back asleep.)  
I curse at myself and make myself get up from the bed. The moment my feet touch the ground I feel drained from all life and energy to survive the day.  
“Just until tomorrow.” I whisper to myself and make my way towards the bathroom. “I’ll be fine.” I strip and jump into the shower. My mind screaming at me, telling me to end everything. To make the pain stop. I want so desperately to give in to the voice, I want to say ‘okay’, I want to be able to give in… but I lost that right somewhere along the way. I lost everything, my future, my love, my feelings, it’s like I’m numb inside. I can still function, but I want to crawl into a hole and die. I can still react to everything, but I don’t feel anything. I can still carry on, but I don’t want to. I want to give up, but I have nothing left to give up. If I could, I would. I can’t, because if I do… Dean will be alone. Dean is all I have left to cling to.

I turn the shower off, climb out, and dry off. I look in the mirror, at every scar from every hunt.  
(Was it worth it? Who did we really save in the end?)  
I close my eyes and breath.  
(Was it worth it? I lost everything. Jess didn’t have to die, I didn’t have to start the apocalypse.)  
I throw my towel on the floor and get dressed quickly. Trying to shut the voice out. I try to drown it out, but nothing seems to work. It always seems to rise above the noise.  
(Where did I go? Where is Sam Winchester? The lawyer, with a wonderful girlfriend. Where did he go?)  
I look in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door and don’t see him anymore. All I see is an exhausted hunter who wants out. I see the boy who was addicted to demon blood. I see the demon’s tool. I see the bringer of the apocalypse. I see someone I don’t want to see. I see Sam, not Sammy Dean’s brother. Not Sam Winchester the lawyer. Not the Sam Jess loved, or the Sam who was once Johns son. I see Sam… I see the Sam who screws everything up, the Sam who just isn’t good enough. I see the Sam who needs to escape reality but can’t so it. I see the broken soul that should have died long ago. I can’t even see who I once was, all that there is left is this person that I don’t want to be. I want to be normal, I want a life with Jess, I want to feel something, anything other that this vast darkness that threatens to consume my soul no matter how hard I try to pretend that it isn’t there.

I stand there staring at this person that seems like a stranger, yet so failure. I recognize who that it should be, but not who it is anymore. I raise my hand and punch my hand into the mirror. The glass shatters with the impact, and glass embeds itself into my hands. I slowly draw my hand away, glass crumbes and falls. Blood seeps from my hand, and drips onto the bathroom floor. I stare at it, completely numb to everything but the stinging pain in my hand, but I can’t seem to bring myself to care. Blood drips down the door from the remaining glass. A banging sound comes from the other side of the door, it sounds so close, yet so far away. I can’t seem to bring myself to even register, what is going on when a voice starts calling for Sammy. Sammy isn’t home anymore, he died along the way somewhere. This is it, I can’t do this anymore. I have gone so far, but it’s over. I can’t do this. I can’t make it through this day. I can’t hide this anymore. It’s time to end things. I turn to my duffle bag for something to kill myself with. I can hear someone banging on the door, demanding entrance. But I can’t bring myself to care. I open the bag and pull out a bottle of my sleeping pills.  
(Do it.)  
I open the bottle and dump a handful of pills into my hand. The voice continues to call for Sammy, and pound on the door. I throw the pills into my mouth and pull the bottle of water from my bag. I turn the bottle up and drink. I repeat the process until there are no pills left in the bottle.  
(Just die already.)  
I lean back against the wall and close my eyes, waiting for death to come and claim my soul. The world seems to be fading away when the bathroom door bursts open and Dean comes marching in with Castiel behind him.  
“Sam?” Dean grabs my shoulders and shakes me. I smile slightly but am feeling too tired to answer him. “Sammy? Come on, please don’t do this.” Tears fall down his face as he shakes me.  
“I’m sorry, Dean.” I whisper and reach up with my bloody hands and touch his arm. My eyes feel heavy, so I close them, giving in to the dizzying blackness. Giving into the void that has been threatening to consume me for so long. Giving in to everything that I have tried so hard to keep back, to keep away. Giving in and giving up. “I’m sorry.” A last whisper leaves me as the world fades from me. I can hear Dean calling out for Sammy, I can hear the pain in his voice, but there is nothing I can do. He wasn’t supposed to find me until I was long dead. 

“Hello, Sam.” Death greets, helping me stand to my feet. “What have you done?”  
“I did what I had to do.”  
“It’s not your time yet, there is still a lot for you to do.” He sighs.  
“What?” I furrow my brows. “I can’t do this anymore, I don’t want to live like this.”  
“Sam, I know you’re tired, but you can’t stop yet. Think about Dean. What will he do without you?”  
“He has Cas.” I cross my arms.  
“Sam, I can’t claim your soul. It’s not time.” Death backs away.  
“No, please. I don’t want to go back.” I try to follow him, but a bright light surrounds me.

“Sammy, please wake up.” A voice begs. My eyes open slowly, and I see Dean sitting on the bed next to me. He looks like he’s been crying.  
“Why did you bring me back?” I close my eyes against the oncoming tears.  
“Sammy.” Dean leans down and hugs me tightly.  
“Dean, why did you bring me back?” I push him away and sit up.  
“I need you, Sammy. I couldn’t let you die.” He pleads for me to understand. “You’re lucky me and Cas found you when we did.”  
“Lucky?” I snarl my nose. “Lucky? What makes you think that I wanted to come back?”  
“Sammy-.”  
“Dean, don’t.” I turn my head away from him.  
“No, dammit. We can fix this.” He Grabs my shoulders and forces me to look at him. “I don’t know what happened to make you want to kill yourself, but we can fix this. I can’t live without you, Sam.”  
“I’m sorry, Dean.” I shrug my shoulders and look away from him. He sighs and backs away from me.  
“Okay, go ahead and be this way.” Dean’s voice sharpens, it’s obvious that I hurt his feelings. I really should care, but I don’t. “You go ahead and- and want to off yourself. Fine.” He throws his hands up in the air.  
“Dean-.”  
“Go ahead, but you should know if you kill yourself, I will drag your ass back every time.” He lowers his voice, and glares at me. There are still tears in his eyes and hurt written all over his face. I know I hurt him, but can’t he see how much it’s killing me to stay here? Dean scoffs when I don’t say anything, and he storms out, slamming the door behind him. I groan and look down at my hands. They don’t have any bandages on them, and they aren’t hurt. Castiel must have healed me.  
“Dammit, Cas.” I rise to my feet and go over to my bag, I open it to pull out a change of clothes to put on. I’m in bloody clothes, so I want to get clean… again. I rummage through the bag, and notice that all my knives are gone, along with my vitamins and sleeping pills. “Really? Come on.” I groan.  
“Sam?” I hear a tentative voice ask from behind me.  
“Yeah.” I refuse to look and see who it is, I think it’s Castiel though.  
“Why did you try to kill yourself.”  
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I grab some clothes and head straight for the bathroom.  
“Sam-.” Cas calls after me.  
“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.” I slam the door shut, press my back against the door, and sink to the floor. The bathroom is clean, the mirror is gone, and the glass has been cleaned up. There are some blood stains on the towel in the corner, and some blood spots on the wall. I put my head in my hands and feel tears forcing themselves from my eyes.  
(Will there ever be any peace? I just want to see Jess.)  
“Dammit, dammit, dammit.” I mutter to myself over, and over. I want this to end. I want out, and I don’t think that I can hold onto this pathetic life for much longer.  
(If Dean thinks he can drag my ass back here every time he is sadly mistaken. He can’t protect me from everything, and he has his own problems. I started this whole damn mess, and I need to clean it up. If I had died a long time ago things would be very different. Jess would still be alive, Dean wouldn’t have gone to hell. The apocalypse wouldn’t have started. Dammit why can’t things go the way I want them to for once? Why can’t I fucking die?)  
“Sam, I can hear your thoughts.” Cas says form the other side of the door.  
“Go away.” I yell and my voice cracks slightly.  
“Should I go find Dean? He might be able to help.”  
“No.” My hands curl into fists.  
(I’m not a child, I can take care if this myself.)  
“Sam, the last time you tried to ‘take care’ of this you tried to kill yourself. You need help.” Cas tries to help, but he’s making things worse.  
“I’m fine. Go away, Cas.” I grit my teeth.  
“I’ll go find Dean.” Castiel leaves, judging by the sound of his wings.  
(I could try again.)  
(He’ll just drag my ass right back.)  
(Dammit, just let me die.)  
The thoughts and voices keep getting louder, and I try to ignore them.  
(Kill yourself.)  
“Shut up!” I scream and cover my ears. “Go away!”  
(They don’t need you, just get it over with.)  
(Dean was bluffing. He doesn’t care whether you live or die.)  
(Kill yourself)  
(Kill yourself.)  
(Just do it.)  
My heart wrenches at these thoughts that profess to be truth. They make since, and I can’t help but believe them.  
(Dean would kill you himself if you weren’t his baby brother.)  
“Go away.” I curl up in the floor, my back pressed to the door. “Please stop.” Tears continue to blur my vision, and the thoughts and voices continue their battle inside my mind.  
(If you really cared about Dean you wouldn’t have yelled at him, you would have done the right thing and been the good little brother. Good little brothers don’t yell and cry. Crying is for babies, and you are being a baby.)  
“I just want out.” My voice catches in my throat.  
(Then end this.)  
“I can’t.”  
(Weak.)  
“Shut up.” I pull my hair trying to distract myself from the voices.  
(Coward.)  
“Enough!” I scream. I uncurl my body and rise to my feet. “Enough.” However, the voices don’t seem to understand the rules. They keep reminding me of what I’ve done wrong and telling me how easy it would be to end it all here and now. Again, I do my best to ignore them, and take a shower. Nothing seems to work, they get louder, and they never stop. I’ve lived with them for so long… and I’ve finally had enough. I get out of the shower, dry myself off, and get dressed.  
(Who do you think that you are? You are nothing, worthless. You pathetic, and useless. Everyone hates you, and Dean would be more than happy if you left him.)  
I put my shoes on and go for a walk. Dean is gone, Cas is gone… who’s going to stop me? I start on a jog, trying to think about something other than what currently possesses my mind. Anything, killing vamps, old lore, what Deans favorite color is. Nothing blocks them out. My jog quickly turns to running. I don’t know whether I’m trying to outrun my thoughts, or myself anymore. Who have I turned to? What have I become? A monster. A monster that can’t be saved.

I finish my run, and make my way back to the motel, I’m drenched in sweat, and feeling like shit. The impala is in the parking lot, so Dean must have come back.  
(Be a good little boy and tell him that everything is okay.)  
I take a deep breath and remind myself that I have to be okay. No matter what I have to be okay. I can’t let myself be weak. I failed in committing suicide, but I will not fail in convincing them that I’m okay.  
Quickly, I unlock the door and go inside the motel room.  
“Sam.” Dean meets me at the door and pulls me into a bone crushing hug. “Please don’t leave me again.”  
“Dean, you sound like a worried wife.” I chuckle, even though it feels like acid in my throat. He pulls away and moves his hands to hold my arms.  
“Don’t you ever do that again.”  
“Do what?” I play dumb.  
“You know exactly what I mean.” He looks serious. “I thought I lost you.”  
“Sorry.” I mutter and start to pull away, but Dean won’t let go.  
“Sam, I’m serious.”  
“I know.” I pull away and go over to my bag for some clothes.  
“We need to talk about this.” Dean follows me.  
“What’s there to talk about?” I avoid the question.  
“Sam, you just tried to kill yourself. If Cas hadn’t been here, you would have died.” He turns me around and makes me look him in the eye. “Do you know how scared I was?”  
“Sorry.” I turn back around, but Dean turns me to face him again.  
“Sorry if fine and dandy, but it doesn’t change what just happened.”  
“Dean, I’m fine.” I turn around again.  
“No, you’re not, Sammy.”  
“I’m fine.” I grab a pair of clothes and try to escape to the bathroom.  
“No, you’re not.” Dean grabs my arm before I can get away.  
“Since when are you so worried about me?” I snap.  
“Since when have you wanted to kill yourself?” He retorts.  
“That doesn’t matter. It was a stupid mistake and it’ll never happen again.” I jerk my arm form his grasp.  
“It does matter, I’ve lost you to many times already, Sam.” Dean look angry and concerned. “I’m not going to lose you again.”  
“In this life you may lose me at any moment. A monster could surprise us and kill me. What would you do then, huh? Sell your soul again? You only have one, Dean.”  
“I’d kill the Son of a Bitch, then I’d find a way to bring you back. Even if I had to sell my soul again, yeah.”  
“Well why would it matter? I’d be dead, and death is a natural part of life.” I roll my eyes.  
“Since when are you into the whole death is only natural shit? In case you haven’t noticed, we die a lot.”  
“Yeah, I noticed.” I storm off towards the bathroom.  
“Cas said you were thinking about killing yourself again.” Dean calls, and I freeze in my tracks.  
“So?”  
“So, it’s true that?”  
“What are you trying to say Dean?” I turn around and look at Dean.  
“I can’t live this life without you, Sam. Yeah it’s a piss take. It sucks, but without you in it I’ll die to.”  
“What do you want?” I sigh.  
“I want you to be honest with me.” Dean advances towards me, stopping when we are barely two inches apart. “Why are you feeling like this?”  
“Dean-.” I turn my head and look away. The voice still screaming inside my head, telling me to kill myself.  
“No, you tell me.” Dean reaches up and turns my face back towards him.  
“I don’t know how to tell you.” I shake my head.  
“Then just open your damn mouth and say what’s swimming in your head.”  
“Dean-.” My eyes widen in fear at the thought of letting those thoughts be uttered.  
“Sam, I can take it. If it’s something I’ve done than I need to know, tell me.” He holds onto my arms to keep me from escaping.  
“It’s not you.” I shake my head.  
“Sam, just say what’s inside your head.” Dean refuses to give up. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.  
“Why don’t you just go ahead, and fucking kill yourself. You are a waste of space, and don’t even matter to anyone, you’re so damn selfish for even thinking that you deserve anything. You’re a worthless monster that has no place in heaven and should be damned to rot in hell for all eternity. You should go ahead and end it all so Dean doesn’t have to worry over his bitch of a brother. You already screwed everything up, you started the apocalypse, and you killed so many damn people. You should really end this before you kill anyone else, you can’t be redeemed. If Dad was here, he would kill you, so why don’t you go ahead and do it for him.” Tears stream down my face as I let the voice speak for me. I can’t bare to look at Dean, I can imagine the agreement on him face. He must agree with the voice, it speaks the truth… right?  
“Sammy.” Dean’s voice breaks and he pulls me into a hug. I stop talking and let the tears stream down my face, and hug Dean back. “God, none of that is true. Dammit, none of it is true.”  
“I started the apocalypse, Dean.”  
“That doesn’t matter anymore, it’s over.” He holds me tightly, refusing to let go. We stand like this for several minutes before I hear Castiel enter the room.  
“Dean, I- what happened?” Castiel asks franticly.  
“Nothing, Cas.” I pull away form Dean and go into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind me.  
(You are a fucking idiot. You are supposed to be okay, aren’t you? You just told Dean what a miserable brother he has. You really screwed up this time.)  
I sigh and accept the fact that this voice, this dooming darkness, this void that consumes anything and everything is here to stay. No one, and nothing can make it go away. The voice is here to stay, because that voice is me.


End file.
